She looked neither right nor left, but as her glance fell on Godschale he swore he could feel the force of her compelling eyes, and a defiance which seemed to silence even the whispers which surrounded her and the tall seaofficer by her side.
Godschale took her proffered hand and bowed over it. "Why, m'lady, indeed a surprise! "
She glanced at the Prime Minister and made a slight curtsy. "Are we to be introduced?"
He began to turn away but Bolitho said quietly, "The Duke of Portland, Catherine." He gave a small bow. "We are honoured." His grey eyes were cold, and said the opposite.
Sir Paul Sillitoe stepped forward and introduced himself in the same flat voice. Then he took her hand and held it for several seconds, his gaze locked against hers. "They say you inspire him, m'lady." He touched her glove with his lips. "But I believe you inspire England, through your love of him."
She withdrew her hand and watched him, her lips slightly curved, a pulse flickering at her throat in the strong light. But when she had searched his face and found no sarcasm, she answered, "You do me a great kindness, sir."
Sillitoe seemed able to ignore all those around them, even Bolitho, as he murmured, "The clouds are darkening again, Lady Catherine, and I fear that Sir Richard will be required perhaps more than ever before."
She said quietly, "Must it always be him?" She felt Bolitho's warning hand on her arm but gripped it with her own. "I have heard of Collingwood and Duncan." Her voice shook slightly. "There must be others."
Godschale was poised to interrupt, his carefully prepared words flying to the wind at her sudden, unexpected insistence. But Sillitoe said, almost gently, "Fine leaders-they have the confidence of the whole fleet." Then, although he glanced at Bolitho, his voice was still directed to her. "But Sir Richard Bolitho holds their hearts."
Godschale cleared his throat, uncomfortable at the turn the conversation had taken and especially because of the watching faces around the terrace. Even the orchestra had fallen silent.
He said too heartily, "A sailor's lot, Lady Catherine-it demands much of us all."
She looked at him, in time to see his eyes lift quickly from her bosom. "Some more than others, it would appear."
Godschale beckoned to a footman to cover his embarrassment. "Tell the orchestra to strike up, man! " He gave a fierce grin at the Prime Minister. "Are you ready, Your Grace?"
Portland glared at Sillitoe. "You attend to it. I have no stomach for this kind of diplomacy! I will discuss the situation tomorrow, Godschale. There is much I have to do."
Again he turned to leave but Bolitho said, "Then I may not see you again before I sail?" He waited for Portland 's attention. "There are some ideas I would like to offer-"
The Prime Minister eyed him suspiciously, as if seeking a double meaning. "Perhaps another time." He turned to Catherine. "I bid you good evening."
As Godschale hurried after his departing guest Bolitho said in a savage whisper, "I should never have brought you, Kate! They sicken me with their hypocrisy and over-confidence! " Then he said with concern, "What is wrong-have I done something?"
She smiled and touched his face. "One day you are across the sea, and now you are here." She saw his anxiety and tried to soothe it. "It is far more important than their false words and posturing. When we drove here today did you not see the people turn and stare-how they cheered when they saw us together? Always remember, Richard, they trust you. They know you will not abandon them without lifting a hand to help." She thought of the impassive Sillitoe, a strange creature who could be friend or enemy, but who had spoken like a truthful man. "You hold their hearts, he said."
There was a small stone-flagged passageway which led out on to a quiet garden, with a solitary fountain in its centre. It was deserted; the music, the dancing and the wine were on the far side of the house.
Bolitho took her arm and guided her around some bushes, then held her closely against him.
"I must speak with them, Kate." He saw her nod, her eyes very bright. "And then we shall leave."
"And then?"
He lowered his head and kissed her shoulder until she stiffed in his arms, and he felt her heart beating to match his own.
"To the house on the river. Our refuge."
She whispered, "I want you. I need you."
When Sir Paul Sillitoe and Inskip returned to the terrace with Godschale they found Bolitho watching a small barge as it was manoeuvred downriver past the Isle of Dogs.
Godschale said brightly, "You are alone?"
Bolitho smiled. "My lady is walking in the garden… she had no wish to go amongst strangers on her own."
Sillitoe studied him and said without a trace of humour, "She found it a trifle stuffy, I suspect?"
Godschale turned, irritated, as his wife plucked insistently at his gold-laced coat, and drew him aside.
"What is it?"
"I saw them! Together, just now, in the pine garden. He was fondling her, kissing her naked shoulder! " She stared at him, outraged. "It is all true, what they say, Owen-I was so shocked I could not look! "
Godschale patted her arm to reassure her. She had seen quite a lot for one who would not look, he thought.
"Not for long, my dear! " He beamed at her but could not drag his thoughts from Catherine's compelling eyes, and the body beneath her dark green gown.
He saw Sillitoe pause to look back for him and said abruptly, "I have to go. Important, vital matters are awaiting my attention."
She did not hear. "I'll not have that woman in my house! If she so much as speaks a word to me-"
Godschale gripped her wrist and said harshly, "You will return the smile, or I shall know the reason, my love! You may despise her, but by God's teeth, she is right for Bolitho-"
She said in a small voice, "Owen, you swore! "
He replied heavily, "Go amongst your friends now. Leave the war to us, eh?"
"If you're certain, dearest?"
"Society will decide; you cannot flout it as you will. But in time of war-" He turned on his heel and fell in step beside his secretary. "Anything further I should know?"
The secretary was as aware of his good fortune as his master, and wanted it to remain that way He said softly "That young woman, the wife of Alderney 's captain." He saw the memory clear away Godschale's frown. "She was here again to crave a favour on his behalf." He paused, counting the seconds. "She is a most attractive. lady, my lord."
Godschale nodded. "Arrange a meeting." By the time he reached the private study where the others were waiting, he was almost his old self again.
"Now, gentlemen, about this campaign…"
Bolitho opened the glass doors and stepped out on to the small iron balcony, watching the lights glittering along the Thames like fireflies. It was so hot and airless that the curtains barely moved. He could still feel the heat of their love, the endless demands they had made on one another.
Her words at Godschale's great house still lingered in his mind, and he knew they would keep him company when they were parted again. One day you are across the sea, and now you are here. So simply said, and yet so right. Set against it, even the unavoidable separation seemed less cruel. He thought of the people in their fine clothes, pressing forward to see them, to stare at Catherine as she passed through them. Her composure and grace had made their flushed faces empty and meaningless. He watched a tiny lantern moving across the river and thought of their first visit to VauxhallGardens… they would return when they had more freedom.
The house was small but well-proportioned, one in a terrace with a tree-lined square between it and the Thames-side walk.